June was a very good fishing travel month for me. A few weeks following the Driftless adventure, I was able to visit the White Mountains of New Hampshire again. This is the second year I’ve visited the Whites to fish, and I’m finding that they really provide a very different fishing experience when compared to the Driftless, or even the more “local” destinations of north Georgia or western North Carolina.
The following is somewhat of a daily journal of the handful of days spent in Conway & Gorham, New Hampshire.
Wednesday – Back in New England
After a direct JetBlue flight from Jacksonville to Boston and the securing of keys to the rental Subaru, I headed the two and a half hours north to New Hampshire, where I’d spend the next few days fishing the White Mountains.
By the time I arrived in Conway, NH it was mid afternoon, so I checked into my little one room cottage, my home for the first two nights. I’d be camping out of the back of the Subaru Friday through Sunday as part of a larger gathering, but before that it made sense to have at least a connectivity to the real world, so I could stay in front of any last minute work emails that could throw a wrench into my weekend plans. Cell service doesn’t really work where I was eventually headed.
Luckily, no such wrenches were thrown, and following an early dinner I was able to get out for a bit at dusk on Wednesday evening, bringing the first of the many brook trout I’d encounter over the next few days to hand. I probably caught about a half dozen brook trout in the hour or so that I fished. It was definitely time well spent.
Thursday – The Gulf of New Hampshire
I woke on Thursday excited for the adventure ahead. Most of the main stems of the prominent rivers in the area of New Hampshire I was visiting are stocked with trout, but as you venture up the tributaries, you’ll find wild fish.
Today, I was planning on taking a little hike up a wilderness trail that parallels the western branch of one of those rivers. From what I read about the area, several large barrier cascades should have kept out the stocked rainbows and browns from getting up this tributary, leaving the water I was to fish full of native, wild brook trout.
Fortunately, that’s exactly what happened. (Save one rainbow towards the bottom). As I traversed the granite boulder strewn waterway, I was able to pick out feisty brookies from almost every lie that looked like it would hold fish. The ones I couldn’t reach were likely due to depth, as some of the pools up there had to be a good twenty feet deep, much deeper than any of my flies would get down.
There was one section that was particularly memorable. A big downed tree straddled the stream, and the sun was hitting the foot of the pool almost instructing me where to place my fly. When I did, it didn’t take long for the trout to make itself present. I could see it rise right out of the depths and smack the drifting kebari toward the surface. It was one of the those picture perfect “eats” that just gets burned into your brain.
The fish itself was not much different from the others caught that day, all of which ran between five to nine inches, but the circumstances that brought it to hand were pure magic.
I had fished for most of the morning and afternoon. It was now close to 5 PM so I was not only tired but hungry. Fortunately, the nearby trail provided a quick retreat back to my car.
Staying at the mini cottage in Conway for a second night, I stopped by a local wrestling-themed taqueria for a victory dinner of an oversized burrito on the drive back. Mexican food & McDonald’s is just what I do when I go fishing, it is what it is.
I’m not sure if it was the hunger, the afterglow the wonderful fishing, or just the combination of ingredients, but that California burrito was absolutely delicious!
Friday – Let the Campout Begin!
I had all intentions of fishing on Friday, but I’ll be honest, the weather during the day kinda sucked. It was raining off and on all morning, and with a weekend of camping ahead, I just wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with wet clothes and gear for the next two days.
Sure, I did fish for like forty-five minutes, landing a few stockers on nymphs, like this uninspiring ‘bow, but I called it early, ran some errands to kill time, and ate lunch at a pizza place in Gorham.
After lunch, the weather seemed to mostly clear up just in time to check in at the Barnes Field group camp. This weekend was the “2025 White Mountains Tenkara Campout“, organized by Bill Holleran of Red Brook Tenkara. There were close to 100 anglers scattered across a dozen campsites attending from all over the country.
After check-in, there was an evening event at a nearby brewery, with food, drink, speakers, and raffles. So the campers caravanned over to Ledge Brewing for a night of fesitivites.
It was a lively room, and there was great conversation and interesting presentations. Seemingly everybody left with some sort of tenkara-themed prize, even I was lucky enough to win a small Mont-Bell fishing waist pack stocked with tenkara lines and stickers!
Following the event the group of one hundred strong headed back to the campground, where multiple small campfire chats took place. Eventually, most (myself included) peeled off one by one and went to bed. There was more fishing still to be had!
Saturday – The Hemlock Forest
On Saturday morning I chose to go out on my own. I was going to hike up a trail into the headwaters to fish for native brook trout in a very intimate setting. While I’ll share a few photos of some of the prettier specimens, I already wrote about this wonderful outing in detail at Tenkara Angler, so I’ll send you to that article for more of the details. It’s very much worth the read.
Following fishing and back at camp come mid-afternoon, there were clinics taking place on tenkara casting and fly tying. It was also the evening of the large group dinner which involved lots of drinks and a ton of good food. My hands (& belly) were full the majority of the night, so I didn’t take as many photos as I probably should have.
I love the camaraderie of these tenkara events, you get to meet so many interesting people!
Sunday – Fishing with Matt
I probably fish with Matt Sment more regularly than any of my other fishing friends. Matt also made the trip to New Hampshire (from Illinois) for the second year in a row. He’s great company both on and off the stream. And our personal interests are just similar enough to be familiar, yet different enough to be interesting.
Matt & I decided to fish one of the stocked rivers on Sunday morning. We were going to fish for a few hours, eat lunch, and then break camp for our respectful returns to the real world.
Now I’d be lying if I said the fishing was stellar. We were hoping for some larger fish, but really never came across any. We both caught a bunch of smallish browns, brooks, and rainbows – especially Matt, as he was really dialed in with his Pass Lake wet fly.
I ended up catching what was likely the largest fish of the session, but it wasn’t huge by any standard. However, it was a solid brown trout that put up a tussle in the fast current from which it was plucked. I was fishing a pretty soft tenkara rod too, so that likely amplified the excitement of the fight as well.
In retrospect, the most enjoyable part of the day with Matt wasn’t the actual fishing, but when we decided to just chill out in the parking area for a bit once we got back to the cars.
We sat on the tailgate and just talked and talked about all sorts of things. Matt let me rant about work, we traded fish tales (of course), compared notes on the last season of Andor, and even treaded political conversations. Now, I don’t love talking politics with friends, but having generally similar views, we couldn’t help it. As our phones got cell signals for the first time in quite a few hours, we both learned the U.S. had bombed Iran the night before!
Tailgates closed, we headed to Gorham for a late lunch at a BBQ spot. There’s not a ton of choices in Gorham, but this proved a good one. While the food was tasty, it was also a little bittersweet as the memorable fishing weekend was now essentially over.
Perhaps the most interesting thing of the weekend happened while we were eating. A young adult black bear wandered through the parking lot of our restaurant. A few minutes later, a truck pulled up with bear dogs released to track it. You can only imagine the stir both scenes created among the restaurant’s patrons.
Anyway, after our meal, Matt & I exchanged pleasantries and parted ways. He was actually driving down to North Carolina to go fishing with another group of friends, and I was heading back to Boston for the flight home to Jacksonville.
It was certainly another memorable visit to the White Mountains. Until the next time, New Hampshire…
Some beautiful places to fish! Lots of brookies with a dabbling of browns. And you must have good balance with all of those rocks. Lol. I could pass on that part.
Some really pretty water for sure. The wading wasn’t as bad as it looked. Sticky rubber wading boots clung to those boulders much better than in the Smokies for sure!
Michael
Gorgeous water you were fishing in; streams like this make fly fishing even more enjoyable for those of us who love it.
My wife and I will be vacationing in the Northeast in late September with her sister and husband, but of course, no fishing. I suggested a little hiking on some of the trails in the White Mountains, but my brother-in-law said he couldn’t do any hiking. We should see some of the fall foliage, especially in Maine. Thanks for sharing
Maine should be beautiful that time of year, I hope you have a wonderful trip. If you’re in New Hampshire and never done it, take the drive to the top of Mount Washington. It’s a pretty drive and wild once you get to the top!